


MYcroft

by TheseStoriesOfMine



Series: Nemesis [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Betrayal, Bombing, Decisions, F/M, Love, Multi, Murder, Mystery, life - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 09:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 19,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2424215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseStoriesOfMine/pseuds/TheseStoriesOfMine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raign Wilton, is the Sun newspaper's political journalist. While at an event, she meets Mycroft Holmes. And from this moment her life is changed. Falling in love with Mycroft Holmes is hard. But it becomes even harder once the London tube is bombed and people begin turning up dead. This baffles Mycroft, but is there a link to these murders closer than he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [everyone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/everyone/gifts).



> This is my first Sherlock Fanfiction and I've truly enjoyed writing it. Please give your opinion on it.  
> Thanks :)  
> 

MyCroft

The Ending Part 1  
 _you’re beautiful, you're beautiful,_  
You're beautiful, it's true.  
I saw your face in a crowded place,   
and I don't know what to do,   
'Cause I'll never be with you.   
~From ‘You’re Beautiful’ by James Blunt.

“Mycroft!” a woman screams loudly. She is out of breath and terrified. He was nowhere to be found and this scared her. A feeling of fear ran through her. What if he was dead? It was a terrifying thought. Her daughter was by her side, clinging to her arm. Coming to the coat closet by the front door, although her fear, she slipped inside silently and cat-like with Betty. They fell upon a bunch of coats. The rough feeling of Mycroft’s. With his coat in her hands, tears began to fall. She loved him. She truly did. Nobody had made her feel like this before. The dizzy feeling of belonging. Her back slid down the wall as comforted Betty. Betty sat in Raign’s lap as they hid in fear. She embraced the coat. And held it against her cheek. For comfort maybe. Or the feeling of closeness. Sobs left her mouth, uncontrollable sobs. Little Betty hid her head in her chest.   
            Footsteps could be heard on the oak flooring outside the door. Loud clunking of shoes. She suddenly became silent. Could it be Moran? Why was he even here? The footsteps came to a stop not far from the closet. Raign muffled a cry of terror with the coat. The footsteps began again, this time towards the closet. She found herself and Betty moving against the wall. Behind the coats and hitting over the shoe rack. Pairs of shoes clattered to the oak floor loudly. The door of the closet opened letting in the light of a handheld torch. Another cry of terror left their mouths. The man fell to his knees next to her and pulled her into a comforting hug.   
“Raign, Betty.” He gasped with relief. Mycroft’s illuminated face looked older and fearful. “Thank god you are both unharmed! I thought Moran had hurt you. I heard a scream.” Raign found herself burying her head into his shoulder. Betty found herself sandwiched between the two adults. As she did, she saw a Revolver S&W 357 Magnum in his hand. He followed her eyes and looked at the revolver he usually kept in the drawer by his bed. Placing it on the ground, his hands went to one of Raign’s tearstained cheeks and one of hers. He wanted to tell them that they were going to be ok. But he had never been so unsure about anything in his life. With a crazy gun swinging bastard loose in his house, they would be very lucky to get out alive. But Mycroft didn’t care about the odds. All he cared about was getting Raign and Betty out alive. He had seen how close Raign and Betty were. Raign looked him in the eyes. She saw fear and uncertainty. She had never seen such a look in his eyes. And this worried her. But before she could say anything, a voice echoed through the house.   
“Mycroft, where are you? This is not Hide and Seek!” Moran taunted. A gunshot followed. “Come out, come out wherever you are. Bring your pretty girl and the child too!” Mycroft looked at Raign. He got into a crouch and picked up the gun again. Checking the cylinder, he found it full. He took hold of her hand.   
“You’re going to get through this Raign, I promise.” He told her quietly. They found themselves stepping out of the coat closet. As they did, the lights came on in the hallway. Sebastian Moran stood on the stairs. He held a similar revolver in his left hand. While his right sat on the banister. His dark hair lay in a messy mop on his head. It was obvious that he had had a busy but enjoyable day.   
“So where should we begin, Mr Holmes and lovely lady friends?” Moran began.


	2. Raign Wilson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I thought I saw a man brought to life  
> He was warm; he came around like he was dignified  
> He showed me what it was to cry.  
> ~From ‘Torn’ by Natalie Imbruglia.

The annual Civil Servant dos were always mundane excuses to get high up civil servants and journalists together in one room. It had only started quarter of an hour earlier and it was already Mycroft Holmes found it tiresome. He had to talk to people that he found tedious and bothersome. Truly, he didn’t want to be here. A waiter kept offering him flutes of champagne and caviar in which Mycroft found irritating. The only thing that kept him going was the idea of getting the young waiter fired the next morning. Mycroft found an empty seating area and sat down in the middle of a large leather sofa. He placed the flute down on the glass coffee table in front of him and sat back. He liked to stay unseen at events like this. The journalists were like flies around honey tonight and he didn’t feel like swatting any. London was beautiful at night but Mycroft had seen it so many times that it began to look dull. The same lights, the same buildings. It never changed. He carried on watching the view, fantasising about annoying his younger brother. When his view was obstructed by a young woman on the balcony outside. She leant over the rail watching the city sleep. Her body was covered in a layer of light maroon chiffon to her knees. A laced material covered her neck and shoulders. Her shoulder length hair lay on her left shoulder in messy natural curls. Mycroft was drawn to her somehow. And found himself wandering out to her. He watched her startle when she heard the balcony door open. And as she did, she dropped her phone over the edge. Mycroft felt a pang of blameworthiness for the lost of her phone. He watched the young woman watch over the edge of the balcony. Her beautiful facial features held no hope for the survival of the phone. 

“I am contrite about your phone.” His voice is softer than usual, as he apologised. The young woman shakes her head in remorse.   
“You shouldn’t be Mr Holmes, it is my fault.” She began. Her voice holds a sophisticated accent to it. Similar to his own. He finds himself take back by this, as normally journalist are not upper class citizens.  She gives him a nervous smile. “Raign Wilton, I work for the Sun newspaper.” She held out a delicate hand to shake. Mycroft took it slowly, unsure if he should do it or not. He finally shakes, using his powerful hand shake. (Yes, he has more than one.)   
“Well it is a nice to be aquatinted, Miss Wilton.” He found himself looking at her facial features. He recognised her nose and eye colour. The beautiful colour of the American dollar bill. She nodded a few times. “Why are you not inside enjoying the event?” The words come out of his mouth quicker than he thinks. He doesn’t try to correct them as he is a civil servant and he should be advertising it. Raign looked at her feet uncomfortably. She didn’t know how to tell him that she thought it was the most tedious event that she had been to. So she decided to lie. Because as a journalist she had to twist the truth sometimes. She looked back up at Mycroft. A pair of piercing celadon blue eyes staring at her. She began to feel the feeling of drowning as she looking into them for those few seconds. But a good drowning feeling, not the dying, gasping for dear life feeling. Once she came out of the daze, she coughed to break the awkwardness.   
“I thought I’d get some fresh air, I’ve got the material I need to write a story.” explained Raign quickly. Mycroft could see straight through her lie. A small grin appeared when he deduced that she felt that same about the party as he did. Raign noticed that Mycroft leant on an umbrella. Thinking about it, every time she saw him, he had the umbrella. She wondered if she kicked it, if he’d fall. How much did he trust the umbrella? She wondered if anyone could replace it. The door to the balcony opened and a middle aged man stood there in a fancy Hugh Boss suit.   
“Mycroft, you are wanted for an interview.” The man told him. Mycroft nodded and walked towards the door. He turned to find Raign watching him. Glancing at his bum to be precise. He gives her a swift nod of the head as a goodbye before he disappeared. There was something about Raign that wanted him to see her again.


	3. The Phone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be my friend, hold me  
> Wrap me up, unfold me  
> I am small, and needy  
> Warm me up, and breathe me  
> ~From ‘Breathe Me’ by Sia.

Raign’s desk sat by a large window that glanced down over the other buildings of Thomas More Square. She had left the party early meaning that she could get to work earlier the next morning. She slipped into the office at 7am ready for the day ahead. Walking to her desk, she found a black box on her desk. Intrigued, she sat down and opened it. Inside was an identical phone to her old one with a note underneath. Picking up the phone with one hand, the other lifted the note. One handed, she opened the note and in a neat and tidy scrawl, she found a message from Mycroft Holmes.   
_I could not recover your old phone. Here’s a new one. And I believe you still need an interview from me? M.H.  
_ A smile appeared on her face. Little gestures like this always made her smile. She hardly knew him but he got her a new phone. Feeling good, she began to probe the phone. She saw that she had the same number as her old phone. Mycroft Holmes is a bloody genius! She thought to herself. A text appeared at the top of the screen. She clicked upon it. And it was from the one and only. She had to admit, she was impressed by Mycroft. The new phone, using her old number and the text already. An amazed smile appeared on her face as she read the text. _Do you like it? M.H._ She had to answer it. She knew it. But before she could she had to begin working. With a click of a button, her laptop began to start up. As she waited, she answered. **_It is very kind of you Mr Holmes_** _._ But then she replied some more. **_I like the initials thing. Should I start using it?_** As his answer came through, she could almost hear him chuckle. _But then that would not be particular then would it? M.H._ She found herself nodding. **_Of course it wouldn’t. There are too many sheep around without needing me to join them._** As she waited for a reply, she checked her inbox on her laptop. Finding an email from her editor, she began to read. It took a while for a reply to come. But ten minutes later one made an appearance. _Sheep? M.H._ Of course he wouldn’t know what ‘sheep’ meant. It was a slang word used by teenagers mostly from South Wales. But then she didn’t understand how she knew it. Picking up her phone, she tapped back a reply. **_A slang word used for copycat or someone who copies others. Mostly used by teenager from the Welsh Valleys. Not so common in London._**  
No reply came in the next couple of minutes. And Raign found herself getting to work. She wrote an article ready for the next day. As the governmental journalist for the Sun, she was to write about the new plans for the education department. Of course, the man in charge of this new idea is Mycroft Holmes. She spent the morning researching what was going to happen. But all the information was very vague. She knew she had to ask Mycroft about it. Even if he had already said he would not be interviewed on the subject. At 12pm, four hours and 35 minutes after the last text, Mycroft answered. _Of course. The juveniles of this generation are very unique with the English language. M.H._ Raign laughed. She got a few weird looks for her colleagues but it did not faze her. _Did you just laugh? M.H._ She laughed again. **_Brilliant, Mr Holmes. What am I doing now?_** She held up five fingers. Her phone buzzed with a reply. _I am not a magician M.H_. A grin appeared on her face. **_When would it be best with you Mr Holmes, for an interview?_** The answer came very quickly. _I have an hour to spare this afternoon. I will send a car for you at 2pm. M.H_.   
A black car appeared outside of the building as Raign exited. The driver got out and opened the door for her. She thanked him and got inside the car. The door was closed behind her. Her phone sat in her coat pocket while her brown leather satchel sat on her lap. She watched buildings pass as she was taken to see the man who had made such an impact on her life in the last twenty four hours. The car pulled up outside a cafe on Baker Street. Raign was let out. She found Mycroft waiting for her on the pavement. She greeted him with a smile. He gave a smile back. He led into the cafe and they sat at a table. A waitress walked over and asked for their order. Mycroft ordered a black coffee, while Raign ordered a tea. When asked which tea she would like, her answer was, ‘Surprise me.’ She pulled a notepad from her satchel and a pen. Mycroft looked intrigued at her. She looked different from the night before. Her hair was held in a bun by an end bitten pencil. She wore a pair of regular female work trousers and a white shirt. She wore less make-up as well. Rouge lipstick on her lips and a bit of eye make-up and that was all. Their orders were brought over. Raign took a sip of her tea and smiled. She began to ask Mycroft questions about the changes in Education Department and he answered them. Mycroft enjoyed having someone listening to him. Someone who wanted to know about his role in the government, who was interesting and didn’t mock him like Sherlock did. Their conversation was nothing but a professional conversation held by a journalist and the interviewed person. But there was more to the conversation behind their eyes. But neither of them noticed. They were blind to look through it. They spent a good hour talking before Raign had to leave. She had to type everything up before 5pm.   
“Thank you Mr Holmes. You will not believe how grateful I am for this. And my phone.” She told him. “And the tea. Your wife must be a very lucky woman.” Mycroft looked at her, a slight feeling of shock ran through him.   
“I am not married.” He answered. Raign let out a quiet gasp and blushed with embarrassment. He placed a hand on her shoulder to show that it didn’t bother him. She pursued her lips.   
“Well thank you for being such a gentleman to me in the last 24 hours. The phone was such a lovely gesture. Nobody’s ever done that for me before. Thank you.” And Raign turned and began to walk to the local tube station. She had refused to let Mycroft’s car take her back to the office. She needed a walk. And to clear her head.


	4. Sherlock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well we all fall in love  
> But we disregard the danger  
> Though we share so many secrets  
> There are some we never tell  
> Why were you so surprised  
> That you never saw the stranger  
> Did you ever let your lover see,  
> The stranger in yourself?  
> ~From ‘The Stranger’ by Billy Joel.

Mycroft entered his brother’s flat to find him looking into a microscope. Mycroft and Sherlock had never seen eye to eye. They were like any regular brothers, except that they were too intelligent for their own good. Sherlock didn’t need to look up to know that Mycroft was there. He knew exactly when his brother was in the room. Call it Sherlock’s sixth sense. Mycroft sat in his brother’s chair and picked up the daily Sun newspaper which sat on the coffee table next to him. He flicked through and as he did, Raign’s name appeared under a heading. It was about last night’s event. She spoke of guests and the subjects spoken about. Sherlock looked over to his brother and saw him caught up in the newspaper. As he did, John entered the flat with shopping bags. He greeted Mycroft and proceeded to put the shopping away. John couldn’t trust Sherlock to go shopping after the incident with the cadaver. And Mycroft proceeded to bring it up just to annoy Sherlock. They were like children when it came to annoying each other. Always trying to wind the other up. Mycroft chuckled and was about to bring it up again. But Sherlock knew it was coming. And spoke.   
“I didn’t know you were still in contact with the Wiltinghams.” He mentioned to Mycroft. His brother looked up to him confused. Mycroft hadn’t spoken to the Wiltinghams since they moved to America.   
“You know that I have not spoken to them since they left for Washington.” He told Sherlock. A grin appeared on Sherlock’s face. He stood up. The grin became bigger as he did. This worried Mycroft.   
“You haven’t deduced it yet!” Sherlock began. “You know her but not as-. Were you on a date with her?” John looked between Mycroft and Sherlock. Mycroft on a date with a woman? Gosh, how John wished he could have seen that. “The woman you were with inside Speedy’s. You didn’t recognise her and she didn’t want you to. Can’t blame her.” Mycroft had got the gist that Sherlock was talking about Raign. Did he know her? He did recognise her when they first met.   
“Who is she, Sherlock?” John asked. He was hooked on the news about Mycroft and a woman. Sherlock smirked at his best friend.   
“Raquelle Wiltingham, also known as governmental journalist, Raign Wilton.” The words left Mycroft’s mouth blankly. She had her father’s dollar bill eyes and her mother’s nose. And with this information he knew she was 27 years old. She knew him but she never told him. The connection between them was because of that. There had to be a reason why she didn’t tell him. And why she would change her name. The Wiltinghams were a rich family. They could give her whatever she wanted and never had to work for it. Why was she working as a journalist under a different name? So many questions raced through him mind and he had to have them answered. He pulled out his phone. _Raquelle Wiltingham. M.H._ He sent her. He got a straight reply _. **It’s a truly long story. R.W.**_ It was bugging him. _I answered your questions. Now you must answer mine. M.H._ He had shut out the world around him. **_Not today Mycroft,_** It was the first time she had called him by his first name. **_It took me so long to get away. I don’t want to drag it all back. R.W._** She was using the initials because she knew he would have guessed earlier if he had seen them. And he knew he would have too. _Of course. M.H_ was the only answer he could give. He expected the conversation to end then. But there was one more text to come. **_Tomorrow night, 82A Princelet Street E1. 8pm. Dinner_**. It’s a date, Mycroft thought. 


	5. Who?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My child, for I’d come from a  
> Wealthy family.  
> I used to have everything,   
> But now it’s different  
> I didn’t respect for what I have,   
> Instead I wasted it.   
> ~A part from ‘Change’ by Kitty Lam

 

Did she like him? She would never open up to anyone about her family and why she changed. Was she actually going to tell him? But what if he saw her as Raquelle? She didn’t want that. Raign was who she was now, not Raquelle. Getting in the shower, she let her thoughts about tonight run over her like the water. Would such a powerful man turn up at such a small common house just for dinner? Unsurely, she got out of the shower and dried off. Pulling on a pair of black skinny jeans and a cream silk like shirt. Wearing it brought back memories of her life as Raquelle. When her family went to Washington, she decided that she was to say in England. To go to Bath University and get a degree in English. Raign was very lucky to get a job as the Sun’s governmental journalist. With her father being so high up in the American government, as well as once being Mycroft’s boss. Drying her hair, she let it form its usual messy wave. For dinner she was making creamy pasta. As she was brought up with all her meals being cooked by the cook and not her parents, she was never taught to cook. Luckily Raign had been taught when she was at university by her roommate.   
The kitchen was cluttered with used saucepans and empty food packets. And Raign began to clean it. 8pm came and there was a knock at the door. Raign nervously fumbled with the tea towel to dry her hands. Straightening her clothes, she opened the door. Mycroft stood there. He was wearing a similar suite to the one he wore the day before. He gave a greeting smile.   
“Good Evening” he greeted. Raign smiled and allowed him in. Mycroft was taken aback by Raign’s flat. It was a small basement flat in Spitalfields. As he entered, the hallway was toasty.   
“Can I take your coat?” She asked. Mycroft slipped it off and handed it to her. She placed it on a peg and Mycroft placed his umbrella against wall. She led him into the large joint living room and kitchen. The dining table was set for two. Mycroft had never been to a homemade dinner with a woman. He was taken back when he saw her answer the door. She wore no make-up which made her look ever so beautiful. Her eyes were bigger and brighter without the shadows of eyeliner and mascara. Her lips didn’t need lipstick as they were beautiful already. His eyes traced her body. Over her visible curves as they walked over to the table. “Would you like a glass of wine?” Mycroft looked at her. He truly didn’t know what to expect. He nodded.   
“Yes please.” He answered. A smile lit up her face as she walked into the kitchen. Disappearing behind the counter, Mycroft took a seat at the table. He kept thinking of Raign’s lips. He was about to make conversation when Raign spoke.   
“I have Domaince Leroy Corton-Charlemagne Grand Cru, Cote de Beaune, France or Domaine Leroy Clos de Vougeot Grand Cru, Cote de Nuits, France. Which one would you like?” She appeared with the two bottles. One was white and the other was red. Mycroft looked at the bottles. They were a thousand pounds each. But of course, the Wiltinghams were known for their taste in wine. Mycroft picked up the white and opened it with the wine opener which sat on the table.   
“Expensive wine.” He commented. Raign nodded. Her eyes didn’t leave Mycroft. She watched him open the wine. She noticed how his hands delicately uncorked the wine. They weren’t the hands of a rich man who ran the government. They held a few scars. He poured the wine into the two glasses.   
“My eighteenth birthday present” She explained. Mycroft placed the bottle in the middle of the table.  “Glad I didn’t drink them or smash them in anger now.” Mycroft watched her as she reached for the glass. On her right ring finger instead of a ring, she had a scar. It was an ugly red scar, where the skin hadn’t repaired itself. He wondered how she had done it. She gave a smile. “I’m going to apologise in advance for dinner. I’m not very domestic goddess.” Mycroft chuckled. Raign got up and served the meal.   
“Do you need any help?” he asked her. She shook her head. She brought the plates over to the table. They began to eat. They watched each other as they ate. Mycroft looked out of place in Raign’s flat.   
“You want to know about why I no longer use Raquelle Wiltingham as my name.” Mycroft found himself nodding. But before he could answer, she carried on. “I was lied to, by my parents. because I never was my mother’s daughter. My father had an affair. And I was the outcome. It was obvious that she did not like me. I always thought I was doing something wrong with her. But no, I was just my father’s love child. I was eighteen when I found my birth certificate. The illegitimate child of Robert Wiltingham and Darla Crawford. So I ran. I spent my childhood believing I was someone I actually wasn’t.” Mycroft saw the sadness in her eyes. “This is who I am now. And this is how I live.” Raign took a large but quiet gulp of her wine. Mycroft was enjoying the food. It was different to what he normally ate. And it had meaning. Mycroft didn’t know how to respond to what she had told him.   
“I am sorry Raign.” He told her. She shook her head. She gave him a small smile. All he could think about was how beautiful she was. The way the lighting in the room lit up her face and made her eyes glitter. “It was a beautiful meal” A smirk appeared on her face.   
“I don’t mind if you didn’t like it.” Mycroft shook his head. He truly did enjoy it. It was nice to have food made for him by someone else. He took another sip of wine while Raign took the plates and cleared up. “Would you like a cup of coffee and a slice of gateau?” Mycroft’s eyes lit up when she said gateau. And Raign saw this. He brought the empty wine glasses to the sink. He was a tall man. Raign wasn’t much shorter than him and in heels she would match him.  They stood there in the kitchen looking at each other. Caught in each other’s eyes. Butterflies began to flutter in Raign’s stomach. She was attracted to him. And before she could register what she was doing, she was moving in close to Mycroft. And she tried to kiss him. Before her lips touched his, Mycroft moved backwards. This made Raign recede back against the kitchen surface. She looked down at her bare feet. She felt terrible. Mycroft watched Raign. She turned to the kitchen surface, looked down and sighed. “I’m sorry.” Mycroft had been surprised by Raign trying to kiss him. Mycroft didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know what to do. He sighed when his phone began to ring. Answering he frowned. He mumbled something and then hung up. Raign had turned to look at him.   
“Thank you for the meal.” He added. “It was very generous of you. I must take my leave; I have been summoned by the prime minister.” Raign nodded. Mycroft bided his farewell and let himself out. While he was putting on his coat in the hallway, he heard Raign walk over to the dining table. He felt a lump in his throat. He slipped on his coat and grabbed his umbrella. And slipped out the front door. Raign heard the door close behind Mycroft. And she broke down. A numb feeling went through her. She picked up the unopened bottle of red wine. And smashed it against the table. Red wine seeped over the table mixed with her blood. She didn’t notice the pain. Or the glass sticking out from her hand. But she knew it was there. Picking up the opened bottle of white wine, she took a large gulp and then poured the rest over her hand. A wince could be heard leaving her mouth.


	6. Attack on the Tube

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I don't care if I don’t look pretty  
> Big girls cry when their hearts are breaking  
> ~From ‘Big Girls Cry’ by Sia

Two months had passed since Raign had last seen Mycroft. She knew as she had suffered with an infection in her cut for a month and a half of that time. Now she held an ugly scar across the palm of her left hand. She missed seeing and talking to Mycroft. She spent her days going between work and the local library. With her job only being half day, she thought she could go back to university to study chemistry. She had been interested in the subject in school and had passed with flying colours at A Levels. Reading into the subject had proved best with forgetting about Mycroft. She had tried baking. Spending a whole Saturday afternoon baking a chocolate cake, only to remember the look in Mycroft’s eyes as she mentioned gateau. The cake ended up tasting salty as it had about five pints full of her tears. 

Today she decided to get to work later than usual. She walked from her flat to Liverpool Station. She had an interview scheduled with the new head of the education department. Enjoying the walk, she listened to 1000 Forms of Fear. It was her favourite album. Already she had listened to it fully fifteen times. Using her oyster card, she got down to the platform. It was quite empty for a Tuesday morning. A train appeared and she got on. She got on the last carriage and sat at the front end of it. Picking up a newspaper from the seat beside her, she began to read. Normally, she wouldn’t read other newspapers as they were the ‘enemy’ as her boss would say. But she didn’t mind the Guardian. They always had weird and wonderful articles which she loved. At the next stop, a couple of women came on all dressed up for a wedding. Raign found herself liking their dresses. She wondered if she would ever get married. As she wondered about this, she watched a man slip of the train, leaving a bag behind on the chair. Raign looked at the bag. She carried on watch it as the train started moving again. Her eyes never left the bag until a flash of blinding light came out from it. The bag blew up; send the back of the carriage flying into the tunnel. Raign’s ears buzzed as she got up from the ground. The bag was in smithereens and on fire. Raign felt something hot trickling down her face as she got herself into a standing position. Her hearing came back and as it did, all she could hear was screaming. One of the wedding party was missing a leg. Raign found herself walking over and kneeling next to her. A man came and knelt next to her. He was nursing an arm injury. She pointed to his jacket, in which he gave to her. She wrapped it around the woman’s leg to stop the bleeding.   
Mycroft was on his way to Monument Tube station. A carriage had been blown up with seven people onboard. Mycroft’s P.A, Adam, had given him a list with the names of the people onboard. Bruce Cobb, Seth Simmons, Cora Malone. Then a name appeared that made Mycroft’s stomach turn. Raign Wilton. The woman who tried to kiss him, who offered him gateau and made him dinner. He had to know if she was ok. Not seeing her for two months had been painful to him, but only now he noticed. The car stopped by a wall of yellow police tape and Mycroft got out. Lestrade stood behind the tape. He nodded to Mycroft.   
“Are there any alive?” Mycroft’s voice was shaking. He couldn’t lose Raign, not before telling her how he felt. How not seeing her was the stupidest idea ever. Lestrade nodded.   
“We have one dead, a young brunette woman. She was on her own in the carriage.” Lestrade told him. Mycroft took a deep breath trying to keep in his emotions. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He didn’t know it was her; there were many young women with brunette hair in London.  An ambulance crew appeared from the station with a blonde woman on a stretcher. Behind them came two firemen carrying a corpse bag. A man then appeared with a young woman. The young woman helped the man to an ambulance. Mycroft looked at her and saw that is was Raign. Her clothes were covered in dust. She had blood down the left side of her face. Mycroft walked towards her. Raign saw him. He came to a stop half a meter in front of her. He still held the cigarette in his hand. Raign saw it.   
“May I?” She asked gesturing to it. Mycroft nodded and handed her the cigarette. Raign look a long drag before coughing up her lungs. She passed it back. “I hoped it would be therapeutic but I feel ill now.” Mycroft suppressed a small smile. He took another drag of the cigarette before putting it out in the bin beside them. “I’ve missed you.” She told him. He wanted to embrace her in his arms, but before he could, he had to check if she was ok.   
“Has a paramedic seen to your head wound yet?” he asked. Raign looked at him confused. As lifted her left hand to check, Mycroft saw a long ugly scar on her palm. It looked two months old. Was that from that night? He found his hand touching hers. Balancing his umbrella on one of his arms, with both hands, he caressed her scar. “What happened?” Raign looked at her scar. Then up at Mycroft, his eyes as beautiful as ever. Before she could explain, a paramedic came over.   
“Miss Wilton, you need your head checked over. Will you come to the ambulance?” The young man asked. Raign nodded. She began to walk with Mycroft to the ambulance before she collapsed. Mycroft saw it happening and caught her just in time. A crew of paramedics rush around her. Mycroft stepped backwards. They got her into an ambulance and before he knew it, she was gone. Pulling out his phone, he typed in his password, Raign. When he changed it to this, he thought he was being clever, not that he loved her. He got onto his text messages. _Get well Soon Raign, please for me. M.H x._


	7. The Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just please don't say you love me,  
> Cause I might not say it back,  
> Doesn't mean my heart stops skipping  
> When you look at me like that  
> There's no need to worry when  
> You see just where we're at  
> Just please don't say you love me  
> Cause I might not say it back.  
> ~From ‘Please Don’t Say You Love Me’ by Gabrielle Aplin.

 

St Bartholomew’s was a white and sterile place. Mycroft had been here many times. The time Sherlock decided to jump off the roof. It was one of the worst days of his life. His parents were heartbroken, his mother the most. Walking past the place where Sherlock had landed. Glancing as he passed, he tried to bury the anger he felt. It took Sherlock five months to tell their parents. Why couldn’t he have told them earlier? Mycroft had felt a loss and had cried. For the first month, you would find him by Sherlock’s grave at lunch time, rain or shine. He came to the entrance and stepped inside. Thoughts ran through his head, clouding his judgements and confusing him. Having to stop by the wall, he pulled out his phone. He had a message. Clicking on it, Raign’s name appeared. **_Please get me out of here. I’m not allowed to move!_**   He gave a quiet chuckle. Of course Raign was going to make him smile. _I am in the lobby M.H_. He texted back. An answer came as he was in the lift. **_Thank god! I feel like a child awake in the middle of the night. Under the covers on my phone!_** Mycroft walked along the corridor and came to the room he had been told Raign was in. He knocked the door before opening and peaking his head around. He found Raign sat cross legged on her bed with her head under the blanket.   
“Mycroft?” She asked pulling the blanket off her head. A grin appeared once she saw him. Mycroft was taken aback by how pale she looked. Her head wound had been stitched up. He found his feet leading him over to her. His hand found itself on her cheek. His thumb caressed her stitches softly and his little finger lay under her chin. Raign was caught up in his eyes. She watched his face, his every move. Leaning in close, he let his lips brush against her eyebrow. A shiver ran through her body. Raign’s hands found themselves sliding up his arms and around his shoulders. Sitting up on her knees, she looked him in the eyes. Their faces were inches apart, the temptation got to them. Raign’s lips caressed his softly before he pulled her in close. He held her hips and held her close. They pulled apart and looked at each other. Mycroft held a smug look. Raign grinned at this. Before she buried her head in his shoulder. “I love you Mycroft, I’m mad for you.” She mumbled. Mycroft began to kiss her neck softly. He was never one for words and compassion. A muffled moan came from Raign’s lips.   
“I love you too” he whispered to her as he kissed around her ears. As he did, he found a love heart tattoo behind her ear. He kissed it softly. He pulled away and looked at her face. She still wore the grin. It made her face light up. He let go of her hips and paced to the wall and back. He had kissed the most wonderful woman he had met. But why didn’t he feel amazing? He stopped once he saw Raign’s expression. It was one that said ‘Have I done something wrong?’ it killed him to see her look like that. “I am not very compassionate. I struggle to show my emotions. Sherlock has this problem too.” Raign stood up and walked over to him. She kissed him softly.   
“I understand Mycroft. But are we going to be something?” Mycroft looked at his feet. Then back up at Raign, she wore an understanding look.   
“I do not know Raign. I need time to think.” And he left. 


	8. Alone Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry,   
> You don't know how lovely you are  
> I had to find you, tell you I need you  
> Tell you I set you apart.  
> ~From ‘The Scientist’ by Coldplay.

Christmas had passed. Raign and Mycroft had hardly seen each other. They had communicated over text but not much. They had exchanged a ‘merry Christmas’ on Christmas day and a ‘happy new year’ but other than that, they hadn’t truly spoke. Raign had tried to get on with her life. She signed up to a post graduate course in Chemistry. The first day came and Raign found herself excited. She woke up early and caught a cab to the Queen Mary campus of the University of London. The course was for post graduates from different subjects. As she had a degree in English, she could do it. She came to the campus and fell in love. There was a mixture of old and new buildings. The atmosphere made her smile. Finding her way to her classroom, she took a seat on one of the middle tables. The class began to fill up and Raign was joined on her table by two women. They both looked younger than her by a year or two. She smiled. The woman closest to her was a tall and skinny woman. She had a long mop of hair that was dark brunette and gold. A pair of large hazel eyes with set of perfectly straight white teeth. She was beautiful, Raign thought. The woman next to her was much shorter and curvy. Her long dark brunette hair lay braided on her shoulder. She wore a Green Day t-shirt. The closest woman turned to Raign and smiled.   
“Hi, I’m Lila,” Raign did not expect to hear a strong South Walian accent come off the woman’s tongue. Raign smiled. She held out her hand and Lila shook it.   
“Raign” She introduced. A second woman, wearing a pair of blue lenses glasses, poked Lila on the shoulder.   
“Mr Thomas would be so proud,” The woman grinned. Lila gave a smirk. She turned back to Raign.   
“This is Laura, Originally four of us. But Nemi wanted to do something else and Cassidy works in the government.” Raign did not expect two women from South Wales to be in her class. The lesson began and Raign found herself writing down everything her professor said. They were to have three lessons a week and in between they were to research. Doctor Molly Hooper was one of the best Chemists in London and one of the youngest. As the lesson ended, Raign packed up her things and went to leave. Her name was called by Molly. Raign found this weird, as they didn’t do introductions at the beginning. How would Molly know her name? Raign wandered over to the desk at the front of the laboratory. Molly gave a kind smile. Raign liked her, she was bouncy and interesting.   
“I have something for you.” She told Raign as she reached into her bag. Raign watched her retrieve a letter in which held her name. She looked at Molly intrigued. Molly gave a friendly smile. “Mycroft asked me to pass this on to you.” Raign thanked Molly, before she left for the office. On the bus there, Raign opened the letter.

 **** _Raign,_  
            I am sorry about day at the hospital, I am not one for emotional moments. And I never have been. But when I am with you, you bring out a new side to me. One that does know how to love a woman and to show her that. It took me all this time to find that out. If only I had seen it sooner.   
                        I know that today is your first day at university and I wanted to congratulate you. I never want to go back to be honest. You have courage that I have never seen in another person. And you have me intrigued by who you are. Not as in Raign but your personality. I see you use both your hands for day to day things. And I want to know how and why you are ambidextrous. You are always in my head. I wonder what you are doing, how you are feeling. On Christmas day, at my parents’ house, I wish you were there. As we could have conversed for hours about different things. Your father once told me you were a well rounded student. And I can see that. You have what my father would say ‘a finger in every pie’.   
                                    I do love you Raign and kissing you is the most natural thing to me. I miss the taste of your lips, the smell of your hair and the look in your eyes when you see me. I’d like to talk, the two of us, about our relationship. Because I know you want it as badly as I do. Meet me tonight on the glass balcony at 7pm. 

**_Mycroft Holmes._ **

Raign found a smile on her face. She didn't want to move on with her life without Mycroft. 


	9. A Night to Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *WARNING: SEX HAPPENS IN THIS CHAPTER*  
> You found me dressed in black,   
> Hiding way up the back.  
> Life had broken my heart into pieces,   
> You took my hand in yours.  
> You started breaking down my walls,   
> And you covered my heart in kisses.  
> ~From ‘Dressed In Black’ by Sia.

Mycroft stood on the glass balcony waiting. The place where they had met. There was something different about the view tonight. There was a beauty to it. The stars were never visible in London. That annoyed him slightly. Unlike his brother, Mycroft liked astronomy.  He walked over to a table and chairs that sat on the balcony. He took a seat on the closest one. He hoped Raign had got his letter. As he had spent the whole night trying to write it. He checked his watch, 6:55pm. If only time would go faster to then go slower once he and Raign were together. What if she had text him? He pulled out his phone. As he did, the door to the balcony opened. Raign walked out onto the balcony. She was wrapped up warm in a thick coat and a scarf. Mycroft stood up and gave a smile. Raign walked towards him and hugged him. He held her close. She fitted to him perfectly. She looked him in the eyes and found a crystal blue sea looking back. Wearing a pair of high heeled boots, they were the same height. Raign lifted her hand to touch his cheek. As she did this, Mycroft took hold of her left hand gently. He brought it to his mouth and kissed her scar softly. Her hand was as cold as ice and this made him take her hand between his own and begin to rub. As she felt warmth in her hands, butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Nervousness came over her as she watched him.   
Without a word, he picked up his umbrella and took her hand. He led her from the balcony and back into the building. Raign didn’t say a word and hurried along. Once they were outside the building, they got into one of Mycroft’s black jaguars and drove off. Raign watched Mycroft as he took a piece of silk from his pocket and smiled. He placed it over her eyes and blindfolded her. Raign became intrigued by what was going on. As she was going to say something, Mycroft stopped her by kissing her softly upon her lips. She murmured in happiness. The car came to a stop and with Mycroft’s help; they both got out of the car. Mycroft held her left hand and her right hip as he led her to her surprise. All Raign could hear was the sound of water and their footsteps. Mycroft kissed her neck softly before undoing the blindfold. Raign gasped in shock as she found herself stood in front of a fancy boat. It had been lit up with fairy lights and candles. And a table sat in the middle of the deck. Silver covers had been placed over the food. Raign turned to Mycroft, who was beaming at the emotion on her face.   
“It’s so beautiful Mycroft” She told him. He took her hand once again and helped her onto the boat. He pulled out a seat at the table and once she had sat down. He pushed the seat in.   
“It’s all for you,” he whispered as he kissed her cheek. He sat down himself and uncovered the food. A large slice of chocolate cake with butterscotch ice cream sat on their plates. Mycroft’s eyes lit up. And Raign grinned at this. They began to eat. Their eyes on each other all the time. Raign couldn’t stop smiling. She felt like a teenager again. Mycroft felt the same.   
“You shouldn’t have done this Mycroft.” Raign added. Mycroft shook his head.   
“I would do anything, to show you that I love you.” His words were so soft, Raign just wanted to kiss him. Instead she hooked one of her legs around one of his. A smirk appeared on Mycroft’s face as this happened. Once they had finished Mycroft took her hand. “May I have this dance?” Raign laughed as there was no music. But that didn’t bother her. She’d do anything to get close to him.  He held her as they danced around the deck. It was such a beautiful night. She kissed him softly as they moved. Suddenly Mycroft stopped and pulled her into a deep and passionate kiss, their lips caressing each other’s.   
“Lets go back to mine,” A beg came. She wanted him so badly. To spend a night in his arms. Mycroft gave a smirk.   
He led her into the cabin. The room was toasty and homely. A large double bed lay in the middle. Raign smiled and slipped off her coat and scarf. Placing them on one of the coat pegs, she turned back to Mycroft. He had also removed his coat, scarf and leather gloves. Before they knew it, they were passionately kissing each other. Raign’s hands caressed his chest. Mycroft’s hands were gently on her bum. Her hands began at his jacket; she took it off his body and threw it onto the chest to their left. Mycroft’s hands travelled up her back and unzipped her dress. Raign helped him pull it off her. Then Mycroft undid his tie and slipped his feet out of his shoes. He was taken aback by the sight of Raign in lingerie. It was black and lacy and it turned him on a lot. Raign’s hands slid down his chest and stomach, undoing the buttons of his shirt. Before she undid the button of his trousers. She helped her take them off him. Then Mycroft picked her up. He kissed her, with such a want for her, on the lips before he kissed her neck in little soft kisses. Raign let out little moans of enjoyment. He lay her down on the bed and got on top of her. Her hands traced his stomach muscles and his hands unclipped her bra. Taking off her bra, his hand went to her boobs, slowly squeezing them. They were plump things with such beauty. Her breathing became a bit quicker as he touched her more and more. His hands found their way down to her knickers and slipped them off her body. He took off his own too. She looked up at him as his penis penetrated her vagina. A gasp left her mouth as he began to thrust in and out. More, she wanted more and quicker.   
“Faster,” She begged. Mycroft grinned and picked up the speed. His hands were still on her boobs as her carried on thrusting in and out. And after five minutes, sweating and gasping, they got to the climax. A loud sigh left Raign’s throat as he ejaculated into her vagina. Mycroft gasped and buried her head in her boobs. They felt complete pleasure. Mycroft rolled over her and lay by her side. “I love you too Mycroft.” She whispered out of breath. 


	10. The Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because it,   
> Makes me that much stronger,   
> Makes me work a little harder.  
> Makes me that much wiser,   
> So, thanks for making me a fighter.   
> ~From ‘Fighter’ by Christina Aguilera.

London was still blanketed in darkness when Raign found herself opening her eyes. She felt Mycroft’s arms around her and felt his chest rising and falling slowly. Her fingers softly caressed his stomach as she lay there. Being with Mycroft made her feel alive, a feeling she hadn’t truly felt for ten years. She slightly moved off him and leant on her right hand. He looked younger as he slept peacefully. She checked her phone, it was 6am. This was the normal time she awoke. She would run to work sometimes. Today she just wanted to lie in bed with Mycroft all day. As she looked at her phone, she received a text.  _How is my brother?_ It asked. Raign knew that this could only be Sherlock. A small smile appeared on her face.  **_I’m sorry, do I know you?_ ** She text back.  _You know who it is; Mycroft left his phone lying around at my flat. S.H_ . Raign locked her phone and placed it back on the bedside table. She turned back to Mycroft to find him still asleep. Moving close, she softly took his hand. Her lips brushed against his knuckles softly. Mycroft let out a sleepy groan. Raign enclosed his hand in hers and buried head in the pillow and closed her eyes. Thought of the future for herself and Mycroft. Doing all this again and again. It made her smile. Lying there for half an hour, she began to feel Mycroft move. He leant on his side and watched her ‘sleep’. He didn’t remove his hand from between hers. Moving in close, he kissed her forehead. Raign smiled and opened her eyes. He smiled at her before peaking her on the lips. Squeezing her left hand, he brought it closer to him. His fingers slid over her scar. He looked up at her. Her eyes were on her right wrist. His eyes travelled to her wrist. He found small scars on it, from the use of a wrist splint. Looking back to her left hand, he heard her speak.    


“Battle scars,” she explained. “This one,” she pointed to the large scar on her left palm. “Was from that nice bottle of red wine that we didn’t drink that night.” Mycroft looked at her in shock.   
“What happened?” He found himself bringing her hand close to her lips and kissing. He suppressed a smile. She cringed and closed her eyes. Mycroft saw this and the smile disappeared. She had done it on purpose. This brought back memories. Dark and cruel memories of Sherlock as a teenager. Raign saw his reaction; she could see sadness in her eyes.   
“I was angry; I’ve wanted to smash it for years. And when I did, I cut my hand, not intentionally.” She felt terrible, a feeling of guilt and anger rushed though her. It made her regret smashing the bottle of wine. Mycroft turned to look at the ceiling. Raign switched on the lamp on the bedside table. She took a deep breath. “I’ve never suffered with depression or ever intentionally tried to hurt myself. All I can be found guilty of is being an adrenaline junkie and making rash decisions.” No answer came from Mycroft. She couldn’t stay in the room anymore. Getting up from bed, she grabbed her phone. She had a missed call from her sister-in-law, Clara. Why would Clara be ringing her? She and Hugh hadn’t spoken for three years. Before she could Clara rang again. “Hello Clara?” Mycroft heard Raign say this. He pulled himself up into a sitting position and watched her. She was biting her lip unknowingly. Mycroft deduced that she was worried.   
“Raquelle, I am so glad that I’ve caught you.” Clara had a blocked nose, had she been crying? Raign sat down on the edge of the bed. She was expecting the worst. Mycroft found himself crawling over to Raign. He sat behind her and rubbed her shoulders. Trying to calm her. Raign closed her eyes. Before she could ask anything, Clara spoke again. “Hugh was in a speed boating accident two months ago. He almost drowned. We got him out just in time. But he came out of that water different. He was diagnosed with brain damage. And he’s not the same.” Raign almost let out a sob but she held it in. She and Hugh had been close as children. Best friends and inseparable. She felt Mycroft kiss the back of her neck.   
“Is he ok? Will he be ok?” Both answered left her mouth with a tone of panic. She heard Clara take a deep breath.   
“He’s fine,” the American answered. “But so different. That’s why I’m leaving him.” Raign frowned. She had never truly liked Clara. Always thought that she was there for Hugh’s money. Again Clara added some more. “He’s coming to London to see you; he’ll be boarding later today. All he’s been talking about is Raquelle this and Raquelle that. He’s a different man and I can’t live with him like this.” Raign turned to look at Mycroft. Mycroft saw the pain and the worry that darkened her face.   
“I want his flight details now.” Raign exclaimed firmly. She was given the flight details in which she memorised. “And if I find that you have hurt my brother or try to take money that is not yours, you will be sorry.” And she hung up. Mycroft looked at Raign. He pulled her into a soft and gentle kiss. Before she could say anything, Mycroft whispered in her ear.   
“Everything will be fine, I promise Raign.” He had no idea what was going on inside her head but he tried to comfort her anyway. She burrowed her head into his shoulder. Memories of her childhood, of her and Hugh, ran through her mind. She was one of four children. The eldest was Nicolas, who was a key element in Italian government. He had married an Italian woman, Gabrielle and they lived in Italy with their four children. Raign didn’t know the children or their names. She had been a bridesmaid at their wedding and that was truly the last time she saw her eldest brother. There was eleven years between them and as children, they had never connected. Next was Adeline. As the only girls in the family, Raign and Adeline had connected very well. There was seven years between them and Adeline had basically brought Raign up. She had fed her as a baby, played with her. Nicolas had helped but he still held a grudge. Raign’s mother, Darla had been the reason for Nicolas and Adeline’s mother’s suicide. Emily Wiltingham had discovered her husband having an affair. This sent her into a shell of despair and also depression. And after a year, she had killed herself. Nicolas and Adeline were only six and two years old at the time. After a while of mourning his wife, Lord Wiltingham found a new wife, Pricilla. And when Nicolas was nine years old, the Lord remarried. Pricilla discovered that she was pregnant two months later. Eight months later, Hugh was born. He was not liked by his older sibling and was still seen as the outcast of the family, even more than Raign was. But while this was happening, Lord Wiltingham was having an affair with Darla Crawford again. But this time, Darla became pregnant. There was eleven months between Hugh and Raign. They grew up by each other’s sides. Lord Wiltingham and Pricilla took Raign in and Pricilla raised her as her own. But there was always a hatred that lingered in the air. As Pricilla’s favourite was Hugh and only him. Raign had found this hard as a child. But Adeline was still there for her. She comforted her and mothered her, as Pricilla did not do this. Once Adeline was eighteen, she moved from the family home. Raign was eleven and was troubled without her older sister for guidance. Adeline decided to go to university and was the first female Wiltingham to go. In university she met a lovely man, Paul and together they began a normal common life. Raign would visit as much as possible and began babysitting her niece, Severn at the age of sixteen. Nicolas had moved away, not wanting any contact with his family except for Adeline. Raign would receive the occasional Christmas card. And as Raign turned seventeen, Lord Wiltingham and Pricilla told her the truth. This shattered Raign’s world. And when Lord Wiltingham and Pricilla moved to Washington, Hugh was the only one to go. Although keeping in touch, Hugh and Raign’s childhood connection had been severed. Raign changed her name and moved in with Adeline and Paul, who lived in Bath. And although she was always ‘Raquelle’ to them, her siblings would call her ‘Raign’.   
Hugh was coming to London and Raign didn’t know what to do. She looked up at Mycroft. His eyes were calm and gentle. To her, in them she read ‘it’s ok, tell me’. And that was when Raign blurted out her family story. Mycroft listened to her every word. He knew Nicolas, her brother, as well as Adeline when they were in their teenage years. He didn’t know of Pricilla’s hatred towards Nicolas, Adeline and Raign. And the news of Hugh’s brain damage, he saw, had shattered Raign’s world. He felt terrible, but Mycroft had to leave for work after she had finished her story. Raign told him that it was fine. As she had to sort her house ready for Hugh. And the lovers parted. 


	11. Hugh & Sebastian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you gave me a chance I would take it  
> It's a shot in the dark but I'll make it  
> Know with all of your heart, you can't shake me  
> When I am with you, there's no place I rather be.  
> ~From ‘Rather Be’ by Clean Bandit.

  
Adeline Herring was a beautiful thirty-five year old woman. She had the same shade of brunette hair as Raign and the same American dollar eyes. Unlike her younger sister and older brother, she had not inherited her father’s tallness and was a short skinny woman. Adeline paced around her sister’s living room. The idea of Hugh with brain damage worried her. As a psychologist, she had seen many cases, some quite extreme. She hoped it wasn’t extreme. She was pacing unknowingly and this slightly annoyed Raign and Paul. Raign was sat crossed legged on her dining room table while Paul was relaxing on the sofa. Severn sat with her aunt, Severn looked up to her as a role model. So did little Betty and Rosa-Emily. Rosa-Emily lay on her father’s lap asleep. The littlest of the three girls, she hadn’t been able to sleep the night before from nightmares. Paul stroked his little girl’s fair hair. It was his hair, only Betty had inherited the Wiltingham brunette. Severn was very jealous of this. Betty was sat by her aunt’s bookshelf. For an eight year old, she loved to read. She had read many books and enjoyed listening to her aunt’s stories, when she came to stay, as all of Raign’s books were adult books. Betty looked at her mother; the pacing was beginning to annoy her as well.    


“Mum, please stop pacing.” The girl begged. Adeline looked at her daughter with a worried look. She nodded and crouched down in front of her daughter.   
“Of course darling,” she peaked the girl on the forehead and stood back up. Adeline walked over to the dining table and sat on the chair in front of Raign. “He should be here by now.” the woman worried. Raign shook her head.   
“He’s gone to the busiest airport in the UK in the busiest city. There is a likely chance that he is caught in a traffic jam, Addie.” Raign reassured. Adeline just nodded her head. Betty looked over to her mother and her aunt. She wished that she, Severn and Rosa-Emily were as close as their mother and aunt were, when they are older. She stood up and began to walk over to the dining table. But before she got there, the doorbell rang. Betty ran to the door and opened it. Mycroft stood there with a smile. He was slightly taken back to see an eight year old answer the door.   
“Who is it?” Raign’s voice called from the living room. Betty smiled and looked the man up and down.   
“It’s Mycroft Holmes, Auntie Raign.” Betty called back. Raign appeared shaking her head at her niece.   
“Somebody’s been reading my articles again.” She smiled at her niece and kissed her forehead. “Go tell your mother to get the kettle on.” Betty obeyed and disappeared. She closed the living room door after herself as well. Mycroft chuckled at the eight year old. “I was just like her when I was eight.” Raign smiled. Mycroft didn’t say a word but step aside from the doorway. As he did, Hugh appeared with a smile. Raign pulled her older brother into a tight hug.   
“Hello Raquelle.” Hugh greeted cheerily. Raign laughed. She had never been so happy to hear her birth name. Mycroft watched the family reunion. Raign opened the living room door. After she did, Adeline appeared at the door, squishing her younger brother in a hug. She spotted Mycroft.   
“Mycroft Holmes, what are you doing here?” She asked grinning. Mycroft gave a smile.   
“Dropping off Hugh.” Mycroft answered and then he too was embraced in a hug. He watched Raign, who couldn’t stop smiling, she was talking to Hugh. Adeline hugged her brother again.   
“Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?” Raign asked. Mycroft nodded. He wanted to be around Raign all the time. They all walked into the living room. Rosa-Emily had awoken. She was sat at Raign’s piano. Raign smiled and scooped her up. She sat on the stool with Rosa-Emily on her lap. Her fingers caressed the ivory keys and rang a melody for everyone. Rosa-Emily didn’t touch the piano while her aunt played. Mycroft listened to Raign play. He could once play but had not for many years. It reminded him of Sherlock and his violin. Raign gently took hold of Rosa-Emily’s left hand and played with her. Rosa-Emily smiled and giggled.   
“Mummy, Daddy, Look!”

Mycroft walked into his office. He had spent an hour at Raign’s talking to Adeline, Paul and Hugh. Raign was teaching her nieces to play the piano. Mycroft saw that they adored their aunt. Raign had played a song and sang it quietly to her nieces. Her voice was beautiful. Being back in his world wasn’t as nice as it was in Raign’s world. A frown appeared on his face once he saw a red file on his desk. A woman was leant against his desk; she was a short curvy woman. Her mishmash of shades lit up her hair as it was tied up in a messy bun and her eyes were darkened with eye make-up. She was dressed in a pair of ripped skinny jeans, a grey seventies band t-shirt and a leather jacket. A frowned ruined her pretty face. It looked like she had taken no effort in how she looked at that moment. And this was unusual for Cassidy. She was normally dressed in formal clothing for work. It looked like she had been called into work in a rush. Cassidy was a psychologist and had been hired by Mycroft to create psychological profiles for wanted criminals. Mycroft had put her on the job of writing one for Sebastian Moran. Cassidy picked up the file and opened it on a page with a bunch of photographs. Words left Cassidy’s mouth,   
“I have a problem sir.” Her crimson tinted lips quivered. Mycroft hung up his coat and closed the office door. Cassidy walked over to the leather chesterfield and sat down. She crossed her legs. Mycroft was shocked by this different Cassidy sat by him. She had never sat on his chesterfield without looking uncomfortable. The idea of sitting on a dead cow, made her feel guilty. Then he noticed her shoes. A pair of red leather Doc Martins. Something was odd about Cassidy today. Her hands slid to her bag and grabbed out her laptop. It was an old Tobisha laptop with a broken left button. Mycroft had never seen it before. Cassidy normally used a red HP laptop. Mycroft had gone and sat in his leather chair behind his desk.   
“What is it Cassidy?” He asked. He watched her face scrunch at the sound of her full name. She stood up and subconsciously straightened her clothing. Although they did not need to be straightened. She opened the laptop and logged in. She placed the laptop on his tidy desk. On the screen was a photograph of four girls. One of them was a happy teenager Cassidy. Her hair lay in a mess on her shoulders and her smile helped brighten the photograph. Cassidy was holding the camera. They were stood in front of a mirror. The girl on her right had long shiny brunette hair. She too was smiling but her teeth were covered by a metal wire. She had her arms around Cassidy and a girl wearing glasses. She too had long brunette hair. Longer than the girl next to her. It was also plated. On Cassidy’s left was a girl with short black hair. It was styled in a quiff at the front. This girl was also wearing a smile. It was the happiest smile in the photograph. It was obvious that she wanted to be there. They looked sixteen years old and at the greatest part of their childhood. Mycroft studied the photograph before looking up at Cassidy. “Why are you showing me this?” He asked intrigued. Cassidy grabbed for the red file and flicked through. She placed it on the desk, open on a page with photographs. In the photographs was Sebastian Moran. Mycroft had been watching him since Moriaty had killed himself. Also in the pictures was a woman. Mycroft found his eyes going back to the laptop. The woman in the photographs was stood on Cassidy’s left in the photograph on the laptop. Mycroft’s eyes looked up at Cassidy. Her finger pointed at the laptop screen. She pointed out each of the people one by one, beginning from the right.   
“Lila Goss, Laura Parkinson, myself and Nemi Asus.” Cassidy exclaimed. “We were the best of friends when we were teenagers. But then Lila went to Australia with her parents and Laura got a scholarship to the University of Toronto. This left Tam and I in Britain. I got into the University of London and she got into Cardiff University. This was when we began to stop talking so much. I still get the occasional message from her.” Cassidy picked up the file. “Sebastian Moran is a dangerous man. If Nemi is a partner of crime, we should begin to worry. She is a kind and generous person but if something annoys her enough, she will fight back.” Mycroft saw the worry in Cassidy’s eyes. He had never seen this emotion on her before and it was interesting.   
“Have you got their photographs out to MI6?” Cassidy nodded at this. Mycroft looked back to the laptop. “Get in contact with her, Cassidy. We need to know where she is. If we can pinpoint where she is staying, we might be able to find them.” Cassidy nodded. She turned, grabbed her bag and then her laptop. Turning to walk away, she stopped once she heard Mycroft’s voice again. “If this ever gets too hard, Cassidy, you must come and tell me.” The young woman nodded. She had heard that before more than once. Opening the office door, Mycroft’s phone began to ring. 


	12. The Desent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And when they call me to that stand  
> I will not weep for that old man  
> I’ll tell the preacher not to pray  
> For I don’t believe I can be saved  
> ~From ‘Bella’s Fury’ by The Willows.

Sherlock Holmes observed the dead body that lay at his feet. The body was Rick Ezra, twenty-three year old man, university graduate that lived at home. He had been found hung from the roof of a Chinese take-away by an old school tie. John was knelt next to the body. He had seen many bodies, but this was the worst. John remembered being in university, being free at the age of twenty-three. The young man reminded him of himself. Lestrade watched the two men he called upon more than his own officers. Sherlock pulled out his little magnifying glass and began to look over the mark which had been found on the victim’s bare chest. It was Moran’s signature. It was what Moran did to all of his victims. But this was different though. He never hung his victims or branded them on their chests. That was why they had called upon Mycroft.   


Mycroft appeared not long after he had been summoned. By his side was Cassidy, she had wrapped up warm in a knitted pair of gloves and a scarf. Lestrade, Sherlock and John were shocked to see her. They had all met once before, but why was she there now? Mycroft sighed at the sight of the man. He had hoped this day wouldn’t come. Cassidy looked Lestrade for permission. Lestrade agreed and Cassidy walked closer to the body. A silent sigh left her mouth. She and Rick had been friends in secondary school. Being a ‘Cornwell’ and Rick being an ‘Ezra’, they found themselves sitting by each other when placed in alphabetical order. She could name all his crushes throughout his teenage years as well as his mistakes. One of these was cheating on Nemi with Lila. This had hurt Nemi so much and also distanced the best friends. The men watched Cassidy as she crouched next to the body. Her gazed moved from his chest to the tie and then to the bulge in his right jeans pocket. The tie was such a reminder of her teenage years. The lunch times sat around the long jump sand pits, the pranks they used to do with the sand. John, who was on eye level with Cassidy, saw the emotions run over her face. There was a tint of regret. She knew this was Nemi’s doing, and she could’ve stopped it. But she didn’t. And here he was, lying half naked on a frost pavement. As she looked more closely at the tie or ties as she noticed, one had a hair grip on it. It was her tie. She had given it to Nemi for an art project. And now here it was, wrapped around Rick’s neck.   
“Do you know him?” John asked kindly. Cassidy nodded. Her gloved hand brushed Rick’s cheek softly.   
“His name is Rick Ezra. He’s twenty-three years old. I went to school with him and spent most lessons sat next to him. I can give you his parents’ number.” She exclaimed, turning to Lestrade. Lestrade nodded a grateful thank you. Before she did anymore, John passed her a pair of gloves. Cassidy slipped her hands out of her knitted ones and pulled on the plastic ones. She went straight for the ties. Pulling out the label of each one, she read them all out. “Cassidy Cornwell, Rick Ezra, Casey Forbes, Nemi Hawthrone, Laura Parkinson and Jules Greene. All the ties that Nemi Hawthrone owns.” Before she could say anymore, John reaches into Rick’s bulging pocket. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. Opening it, he read aloud.   
_Cassidy Cornwell, Congratulations on getting such a high up and well paying job. The best jobs of all ours, as Lila and Laura has gone back to university. You are now standing by Rick’s body. Who do you think will be next? You will know it, my friend. Think and don’t stop._  
Cassidy stood up. She was not shocked at the note at all. Who would be if they knew their friend inside out? She wished she didn’t though, as she would be living such an easier life. Cassidy found herself shaking her head. She wished this wasn’t hard. It wasn’t going to be easy trying to stop one of your greatest friends from murdering people. Lestrade watched Cassidy, unlike her, he couldn’t read her emotions. But he knew she was feeling lonely, but wouldn’t anybody be if their friends had just been killed. One of Lestrade’s officers took the note and placed it in a plastic evidence bag. Cassidy watched the young female officer do this. She hadn’t seen Nemi’s hand writing in many years. Her eyes then drifted to the coffee shop across the street.   
“Would you excuse me?” She added as she began to walk away, her boots kept her steady on the icy ground. The men found themselves watching her again. Once she got to the corner of the coffee shop, she pulled something off her neck. Throwing it to the ground, one of her Docs crushed it. Before she disappeared into the coffee shop, into the warmth. Mycroft looked back at Lestrade.   
“She’s here to help with the murder, one of the best psychologists I’ve got. But Moran’s new accomplice is an old friend of hers. If anyone knows what they are going to do next, it’s going to be her.” He told Lestrade.   
Lestrade entered the little coffee shop and felt the beautiful warmth. He smiled and walked over to the empty counter. A young waitress appeared at the counter. Lestrade found himself buying marcchino and the waitress made him one. After paying and getting his drink, he found himself walking over to Cassidy’s table. She was staring into space when Lestrade sat down.   
“Can I sit down?” Lestrade asked. Cassidy, pulled back down to Earth, nodded. “Mycroft told me that you were here to help us catch Moran and his new accomplice.” Cassidy gave a sarcastic laugh. Ten years ago, she would never have guessed she would be helping people trying to catch Nemi. She bit her lip.   
“Yes I suppose I am. Who would’ve guessed Nemi and I would be on two different sides of the law?!” The woman exclaimed. Lestrade nodded, he would never want to be in the same situation as she was. He thought about how good this psychologist was. Mycroft praised her but could she actually work. As he tried to think of a way to test her, she spoke again. “Why are you trying to guess how good I am at psychology?” Lestrade was taken aback by this. Mostly because Cassidy was nothing like Sherlock.   
“How did you know?” He asked. Cassidy laughed and gave a smile. Lestrade was caught by her smile. It was beautiful and for Lestrade, it lit up the room. Cassidy took a sip of her drink.   
“Well, you looked like you were caught in a complex. And it wouldn’t be about my past because you don’t know enough. All you know is that I’m a psychologist.” She explained. Lestrade broke out into a soft laugh. Now that he understood he wished he didn’t, but Lestrade didn’t mind to laugh about himself. “I just have to think about what will happen next, what will Nemi do?” She tapped the fingers of her right hand on the table. Lestrade watched her as she began to think. Cassidy took another sip of her mocha. She then clicked her fingers. “Lila!” Her voice sounded happy that she had an answer. But then it went sour and quieter. “She’s going to kill Lila...” Cassidy downed her drink and jumped to her feet. Lestrade stood up too.   
“Where will we find her?” Lestrade asked. They ran out to his car, on the way Lestrade handed Cassidy the necklace that she had stamped on. “You can’t throw away your past so easily.” 


	13. The Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I might seem so strong  
> Yeah, I might speak so long  
> I've never been so wrong  
> I might seem so strong  
> Yeah, I might speak so long  
> I've never been so wrong  
> ~From ‘Strong’ by London Grammar.

Discovery   
_Yeah, I might seem so strong_ __  
Yeah, I might speak so long  
I've never been so wrong  
I might seem so strong  
Yeah, I might speak so long  
I've never been so wrong  
~From ‘Strong’ by London Grammar.

Seconds went by slowly as Lestrade’s officers broke into Lila’s flat. Lestrade entered after with Cassidy behind him. Lestrade held out his gun in front as they entered the living room. He was about to shout the all clear when he watched Cassidy leap forward behind the sofa. As he ran over, he found Cassidy trying to comfort an injured woman. Lestrade called for an ambulance before kneeling down to help Cassidy. She was trying to stop the bleeding of Lila’s wounds. Lestrade could see tears running down Cassidy’s cheeks but her face was calm. Lila sobbed in pain. She was terrified and believed she was going to die. She was happy to see Cassidy though. They hadn’t seen each other in five years, only over Skype.   
“Where’s the ambulance?” Lestrade shouted to his officers. One answered with an answer of ‘a couple of minutes’. Cassidy looked at Lestrade then back to Lila.   
“Stay with me Lila; don’t do a Remus Lupin on me, unless you are going to regenerate.” Cassidy told her. A small smile appeared on her face. Of course Cassidy was going to make a Harry Potter and Doctor Who reference. “Don’t do a Buffy’s mum, please.” The begging tone in Cassidy’s voice hit Lestrade hard. Cassidy loved the woman laid at her knees. Their friendship was obvious to him.   
“Only you Cassie, I love you so much.” Lila coughed and as she did, the world began to go black. Lestrade noticed this and leant over. Her heart was slowing down. He pushed Cassidy away from her friend and began CPR. Cassidy didn’t know what to do. She found herself sat with her back against the wall, covered in Lila’s blood. She watched Lestrade try his hardest to revive Lila. Lestrade looked up from Lila and saw Cassidy. This was Cassidy breaking down; her head was on her knees. She looked like a child whose parents were arguing, trying to block out the world. He tried one more round of CPR before he gave up. A young male officer, who was by his side, covered the body with blanket, while another appeared with an ambulance crew. Lestrade stood up and walked over to Cassidy. As he did, Mycroft appeared with Sherlock and John. They saw Cassidy and Lestrade covered in blood. John rushed over to check if they were ok and found himself in shock at the sight of the dead woman. His eyes trailed from her to Cassidy. As they did, he noticed a necklace around Lila’s neck. It was an enamelled piece of copper. Then he noticed a similar one in Cassidy’s hand. This was one of Cassidy’s closest friends and he knew that there was no way that this wouldn’t hurt. He thought about the day Sherlock ‘died’. It had killed him inside. And now, he was watching someone go through the same pain. Looking up, Cassidy got on her knees and looked down at her best friend’s body. Her eyes went straight to the necklace. And then her hand took hold of it. She took it off her neck. Lestrade had to stop her.   
“I can’t let you do that Cassidy.” He told her, she nodded and a sarcastic laugh.   
“You can have it; I just don’t want Lila wearing it anymore. She’s spent ten years wearing a necklace with her killer’s name inscribed. I just want her to rest in peace.” She explained. She gave it to Lestrade before standing up. “I suppose I have to go tell her parents.” Mycroft looked at the best psychologist he had met. Her face was blank of any emotion. He had never seen this before. And this made him think about other people. Lestrade handed the necklace to one of his officers and watched as Cassidy left the room.

The funeral of Lila Goss and Rick Ezra had been held in a little church near their childhood homes in South Wales. Mycroft had not gone but he knew that Cassidy had gone, so had John and Lestrade. Both the men felt a duty to say goodbye to Lila and Rick. It had been held a week after the murders. The next day, Mycroft found himself in his office. Cassidy had been given the week off, but he knew her well enough, that she wouldn’t give up looking for Moran and Nemi until they were found. There was a knock at his office door. Calling to the person to enter, he found Raign stood in front of him. The political journalist had a cake box in her hand and a perfect smile on her face. Mycroft smiled at her. She closed the door after herself and took a seat on the chair in front of Mycroft’s desk. Before she could say anything, Mycroft had stood up and moved in front of his desk. They had seen each other every day since that night together. Raign stood up and kissed him passionately.   
“I brought cake,” she whispered before kissing him again. Mycroft kissed her hungry for her taste. Raign pulled away and smiled again. “I thought I’d bring you a pick-me-up with all the work you have to do. I read about the murders today.” Mycroft gave a solemn nod. He hadn’t told her before as she was safer not knowing with her job than knowing. And he didn’t fully trust the journalist side of her.   
“I’ve got my best people working on it with the local police. They’ll find them soon.” Mycroft explained. Raign nodded. “How is Hugh? Is he ok?”   
“He’s recovering very well.” She answered, this was positive as both sisters thought he’d be in hospital by the end of the week. “He’s moved in with Addie and Paul as they have more space. And Addie can keep an eye on him.” Mycroft gave a smile and walked over and grabbed his coat. Raign knew what he was thinking and followed him out of the office.   
They sat on her sofa, with a bottle of champagne, cuddling. Raign was half sat on his lap with her head buried in the nook of his shoulder. She was thinking. Thinking of how she was going to Mycroft her secret. Raign had kept this secret since she was nineteen. She was young and reckless when she was nineteen and ended up keeping a secret. It began when she fell for a bad boy, Luke. He was a musician and he had asked her to spend the night at his. They began a short relationship of lightly using drugs and gallons of alcohol. After three months, Raign had caught him cheating on her and she left. Moving in with her older sister and her husband, they helped her get over him. But a month later, she discovered she was pregnant. This turned her life upside down. For a nineteen year old who had only just started university, a baby was the last thing she wanted. Adeline was pregnant at the same time and had promised her sister help with her baby. But four months into Adeline’s pregnancy, she suffered with a miscarriage. This hurt Adeline and Paul a lot. Raign saw this and decided to do the only thing that she thought was right. To let her sister and brother in law bring up her child. She would pay them sum money every month to help them bring up her child. And on a cold February morning, she gave birth to a baby girl, in which she called Betty. She saw Betty every weekend and helped in every way possible to bring her up. It was only yesterday when young Betty was told who her real mother was. And now Raign had to tell Mycroft but she didn’t know how. What if he left her? This scared her. She looked up at Mycroft who had been watching her and had a serious look on her face.   
“Mycroft, I’ve got something to tell you.” Mycroft made an ‘I’m listening’ sound and kissed her on the forehead. “When I was nineteen, I had a baby. I was reckless and immature. And that was my punishment.” Mycroft looked at the woman he loved in shock. She was a mother; it made sense why she was so motherly to her nieces. Then it hit him, her eight year old niece, Betty, looked spitting image of Raign and was a mini version of her. It also made sense that Adeline would bring her up, being older and a mother already. But a child, they were annoying things. Wanting to play all the time and clingy. He saw the seriousness in Raign’s eyes. It turned her normal American dollar green eyes to a darker shade. Mycroft moved in close and kissed her. It was a soft kiss, in which he hoped would convey that he was fine with her being a mother. Did he want children himself? He had truly never thought about it before. What if they turned out to be miniature Sherlocks? Mycroft couldn’t take that. But if he had a child with Raign, it would hopefully be a good mix of the both of them and like Betty, intelligent and a book lover.   
“I have no problem with you being Betty’s mother. You are both welcome over mine anytime you want. I have many spare rooms.” Raign laughed.   
“I suppose I’ll be staying in one of these rooms?” She asked with a grin. Mycroft chuckled and pulled her on top of him.   
“Definitely not, you’ll be in my bed.” 


	14. The Search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We could be perfect one last night  
> And die like star-crossed lovers when we fight  
> And we can settle this affair  
> If you would shed your yellow take my hand  
> And then we'll solve the mystery of laceration gravity  
> This riddle of revenge please understand it has to be this way.  
> ~ From 'Our Lady of Sorrows' by My Chemical Romance.

A manhunt had begun for Moran and Nemi. The whole of London was on lock down. Lestrade was leading the investigation with Cassidy by his side. They both knew they had to find the both of them fast or more bodies would be turning up. Already, one of Cassidy’s old teachers had been found dead, an old friend of Moran’s and Moran’s ex wife. But they had been found all over Britain. The teacher had been found in North Wales, the old friend in Edinburgh and the ex-wife in Kent. Lestrade knew this would have to become a national search and after three weeks, it did. Mycroft helped with the publicising, branding the both ‘terrorists’. Cassidy followed their tracks hoping they’d slip up on something. Unlucky for them, Moran and Nemi had not killed anyone in a week. Which was a good thing, but now the police had nothing to go on. They had turned Lestrade’s office into the search headquarters, with the walls covered in photographs of Moran and Nemi, evidence and their victims. Sherlock and John had decided to stay out of the investigation as they knew the importance of Cassidy catching them. Sleep deprived Lestrade and Cassidy decided to have a nap on the Wednesday of the third week. Cassidy slept with her head against Lestrade’s desk, while Lestrade slept on the little sofa in the corner of his office. They had been awake for seventy-four hours, going through evidence and paper work a million times. In the end, they gave up and decided to sleep. Lestrade was enjoying working with Cassidy, as she was determined. Much more determined than his team of officers. She was very profession and knew what she was doing. But as they slept, Moran and Nemi plotted. The next murder was going to be Moran’s choice. An old foe that had got him locked up many years ago and lost him the right to see his children. It was going to be the best murder yet. And it was going to happen under Lestrade and Cassidy’s noses. Nemi couldn’t wait to see her old friend. She was going to offer her a job working for Moran and herself, as they needed a psychologist.   


Cassidy stirred and awoke after banging her head on Lestrade’s desk. She looked around taking in her surroundings and sighed. She wanted the case to be over, so she could go home and move on with her life, like nothing had happened. At the sound of her painful gasp from banging her head against the table, Lestrade had been woken up. He sat up and yawned. Cassidy turned and smiled. Neither of them had changed but they had showered in the changing rooms. All Cassidy dreamed about right then, was going home to clean up and change her clothes. Her hair was a mess, her clothes stank of sweat. Soon her clothes would walk off her because they were so dirty. Lestrade looked over to Cassidy and gave a smile. She gave one back and stood up. Grabbing her bag, she left and headed home for a shower. So did Lestrade.   
Betty sat staring at Mycroft’s bookshelves. They were full of books, old ones and new ones. Raign found herself smiling at her daughter. She reminded her of nine year old her, sitting in her father’s library reading books. In front of Betty was a pile of books. Raign had bought her a couple when passing Waterstones yesterday. Not wanting Betty to be bored, she gave them to her. The books were _The Borrowers_ by Mary Norton, _The Hobbit_ by J.R.R. Tolkien and _Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone_ by J.K Rowling.  These were the books Mycroft had been recommended by Cassidy, as she was the one to go to for book references. Mycroft himself was reading, he was reading the classic, _Of Mice and Men_ by John Steinbeck. This also had been recommended by Cassidy, who had read it for her English GCSE. Raign on the other hand was day dreaming and watching the two people she loved most in the world. Betty was finding it hard to adjust to the fact that Adeline and Paul were not her parents. Her favourite aunt was her mother, it slightly baffled her. After a while of staring at the bookshelf, Betty picked up her new copy of Harry Potter and opened it up. Raign looked over to her daughter; she had finally begun to read one of the books. She thought that Betty would ignore them as it was what most children did when discovering that their biological parents were not the ones who had brought them up. Betty stood up and sat on the armchair opposite her mother and her mother’s lover. She slipped off her shoes and sat crossed legged on the leather chair. Mycroft looked up and gave a smile. Betty gave one back. They got on well and she had been excited to come to his house. Not many people came to Mycroft’s house. Cassidy had been outside waiting in a car once or twice. While Sherlock and John hadn’t even come near the house. Betty looked down at her book before she glanced back up.   
“I like your house.” She told Mycroft. Mycroft gave a small smile. Nobody had complimented his home before. He had grown up in a cottage in the countryside and this had influenced his choice of the house. A large empty house in the middle of the countryside that was peaceful. Betty looked around the room and saw a large painting. It was of a man sat at a desk. Mycroft watched the girl. She was spitting image of her mother, with the American dollar eyes, beautiful smile and the brunette hair. Mycroft’s hand slipped down to Raign’s knee. Raign smiled and kissed him softly.   
“Do you want to say the night Betty? Or go back to the house?” She asked her daughter, the girl looked up with big green eyes at her mother. A happy and excited, the girl nodded. Mycroft looked at Betty and then Raign. He felt like he belonged here, in this little circle of people.   
“I’d love to aunt...” Betty stopped. She looked down sadly; she couldn’t remember to call Raign ‘Mum’. Both Raign and Mycroft saw the upset look on Betty’s face. Raign stood up from the chair and knelt in front of Betty. She placed a gentle hand on Betty’s cheek and gave a kind smile.   
“Darling, you don’t have to call me ‘Mum’ if you don’t want. I’m ok with just Raign.” Mycroft felt himself smiling as mother and daughter embraced each other in a hug. Raign picked up her daughter and brought her over to the sofa. Betty hugged Mycroft too. He was taken aback by the hug. A child had never hugged him before. He felt a weird feeling, was it love? Fatherly love? Betty sat on his lap and laid her head against his shoulder. He took hold of Raign’s hand with his right hand. And with his left, he cuddled Betty. 


	15. The Bomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But I won't hesitate no more, no more  
> It cannot wait, I'm yours.  
> ~From ‘I’m Yours’ by Jason Mras.

After warm, refreshing shower, Cassidy pulled on her favourite jeans and a baggy t-shirt. Her damp shoulder length brunette hair was pulled back into a braid and she wore a minimal amount of make-up. The door bell of her Ealing basement flat rang. The sound was common to Cassidy’s ears and before she knew it, her feet were leading her to her front door. Opening the front door, she found Lestrade stood there. He wore a concerned look on his face. Cassidy noticed the file in his hands; it was the case file they’d been working on. But before he could say anything, the landline began to ring. Cassidy beckoned him in as she ran over to grab the phone. It was her office. A man had been sighted in Kings Cross Station with a bomb. She turned to Lestrade, who was also on his phone at this point. Cassidy pulled on her coat and scarf and grabbed her phone and keys. Before the two of them found themselves in Lestrade’s car. 

Snow layered London like an iced Victoria sponge. The London eye was still and streets were silent. Lestrade’s eyes scanned the icy road as they drove along, while Cassidy manned the phones. The man had been stopped in Kings Cross by the security but was it Moran? The descriptions were similar to Moran. He was the one who had bombed the tube before, and now he was going to bomb one of the busiest train stations in London. They had decided not to tell Mycroft as he was spending the night off with Raign and Betty. But Sherlock and John had been called. Lestrade glanced across to her. He was used to rushing to places and he expected Cassidy to begin to crumble. But Cassidy gave no impression of crumbling under pressure. In university, she did a placement in a school of children with psychological problems. Some of the children needed to be diagnosed very quickly. Also, Mycroft’s deadlines were always very short. Luckily for Cassidy, she had spent her childhood writing and could write quicker than she could think. Lestrade though, had been one to work a bit slower. This didn’t mean he was a terrible detective or that he was a less intelligent person, he just worked at his own speed. They were ten minutes away from Kings Cross when Lestrade began to talk.   
“How did you meet Nemi?” He asked. Cassidy looked up from her mobile. A smile came across her face as she thought of the day. They were eleven years old and two very different people. She looked at Lestrade.   
“We were in the same registration class since the age of eleven. She was one of the quiet ones and I was quite outgoing.” Cassidy began. “Then we began to talk because I found my friends at the time, quite challenging. Laura was always there too. We became the three musketeers. And then lovely Lila joined us. I’ve known Lila since Primary school.” Lestrade noticed that Cassidy wore a smile as she spoke of her childhood. He noticed many people smiled while thinking of their childhood, even if their childhood friend is a psychopathic murderer. “How about your childhood friends? Anyone famous in the mist?” Lestrade laughed and shook his head. Out of his childhood friends, he was the most successful. One of them was up to his eye balls in drugs, another worked in Tesco.   
“No, nobody famous. There must have been some in your school though.” He answered. Cassidy looked down. When she thought of the people she went to school with, she thought about how much better they were than her back then. But now, none of them worked for Mycroft Holmes or MI6. None of them were the youngest specialist in their field.   
“Elinor Johnes, the dancer. Paul Judd, musician. And that’s pretty much all the ones you’ll know. Unless you are an expert in famous Welsh Personalities.” Cassidy laughed. Lestrade shook his head and chuckled.   
“I don’t know Elinor Johnes.” Cassidy laughed again and gave a brightening smile. They pulled up outside Kings Cross, near all the other police cars. They both jumped out and ran inside. Lestrade flashed his badge to an officer at the door and they passed through. Innocent commuters, on their way to different places, coward against the walls of the station. On his knees in the middle of the open station, was the man. From the back, he looked just like Moran. But as Cassidy ran around to see his face. She gave a frustrated sound.   
“It’s not him!” She shouted to Lestrade. She bounced around the spot as if she was in the middle of thinking. But then she suddenly stopped and stared at the ceiling with her hands behind her head. Something was wrong. Lestrade had been watching her nervously. “It’s been a diversion! Moran is elsewhere! We’ve got to go.”   
Mycroft and Betty sat around the coffee table with a board game in front of them. It was Operation. Mycroft tried to pick out the heart and failed miserably. His failure was shown through a loud buzzing noise. This made Betty giggle, he found himself giving her a smirk. It was the only game Betty had brought with her and Mycroft didn’t have the patience to teach an eight year old to play backgammon. Raign had gone to cook dinner. Mycroft had offered but Raign had refused to let him, telling him that he and Betty should become more acquainted. And that’s what they were doing through playing Operation. They were both becoming very competitive after the second game. They had both each won a game and this last game was going to crown a winner. Raign listened in to their banter from the kitchen. She was making her famous creamy pasta again. Mycroft had enjoyed it before and it was Betty’s favourite meal. She stood around chopping vegetables and chicken before making the sauce and adding the extra ingredients. It was nice to cook in such a large kitchen, compared to the little one in her house. Raign laughed as she heard a groan come from in the dining room and a cheer. She guessed that Betty had won Operation. Raign felt a pair of hands around her waist. She turned and Mycroft stood there smiling. She kissed him softly on the nose to tease him. Mycroft softly caressed her back before kissing her gently on the lips.   
“She is the first person to win against me in a game of Operation.” He told her quietly. Raign laughed, she imagined Mycroft and Sherlock sitting down to a game of Operation once in a while. It was unrealistic but she knew it was true. He ran his lips along her neck softly. This made her shiver. Mycroft was so gentle with her and it made her feel respected and appreciated. Raign found her hands slipping down his shirt but she was cut off. Betty ran into the room with Mycroft’s phone. It was buzzing non-stop. Mycroft smiled at Betty and took the phone. Cassidy was calling and had called two times before as well. He sighed and declined the call. This was his night off. He wasn’t going to let work get in the way of the night. He lifted Betty up and placed her on the kitchen counter so that she was the same height as them. Raign grinned at her daughter. She was short for her age, meaning that she wouldn’t be as tall as Raign would be. Mycroft looked between the two women. He could see himself making a life with them. Becoming a family. It would be a nice idea. Betty could run around the garden in the sunlight as himself and Raign sat in the shade watching happily. Then the idea of children came to his head. Did he want a child of his own? If he and Sherlock carried on as they were, there would be nobody to carry on the Holmes legacy. Mycroft liked the idea of having a child with Raign. He thought of it having her American dollar green eyes and maybe his strawberry blond hair or even curls. It was in his genes and he knew it. His father had had curly hair, Sherlock had it too. Mycroft had always been envious of his brother’s curls. But then having a child meant, having a baby. A thing that cried all the time and needs changing. He would have a go but he knew his patience probably wouldn’t last. Raign though, she would be a brilliant mother. Look at her with Betty, although she didn’t bring her up, she was still a big influence in her life. He would have to bring it up with Raign one day. As he zoned back into the conversation, he found Raign explaining to Betty the difference between pasta. This made a smile appear on his face. Betty was so intrigued by everything. It was obvious that she would be a journalist one day, like her mother and grandmother were. Betty moved over closer to Mycroft and hugged his shoulder. He grinned at the girl and pulled her into a hug. Betty had never been embraced in such a hug and it made her giggle. Raign moved in close and hugged the both of them.   
As they stood there hugging, a gun shot came from outside. Mycroft placed Betty down and looked at Raign seriously. He took Raign’s hand and Raign took Betty’s before they ran from the room. He led them into the library. Raign took Betty in her arms and they crawled under the desk. Mycroft was crouched by the desk looking at them.   
“Stay here until I come back to get you.” He explained. Raign nodded as she held her daughter tightly. The both of them knew it was Moran. Raign hadn’t been told the whole story but she knew enough to know that he was a dangerous man. Mycroft kissed them both on the head before slipping out of the room.


	16. The Ending: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does it hurt to know I'll never be there?  
> Bet it sucks to see my face everywhere  
> It was you who chose to end it like you did  
> I was the last to know  
> You knew exactly what you would do  
> Don't say you simply lost your way  
> She may believe you, but I never will  
> Never again  
> ~From ‘Never Again’ by Kelly Clarkson.

As Sebastian stood on the stairs, the sound of footsteps came from behind them. Mycroft had his revolver pointed at Sebastian. Before he turned to find Nemi stood behind them with a gun as well. Raign held on tightly to Betty, terrified of what would happen to them. A crooked smile appeared on Sebastian’s face as he saw fear in Raign and Betty’s eyes. He looked Mycroft straight in the eye. Mycroft had never scared Sebastian, he didn’t even see him as a threat anymore. Because what happened next was up to him. Looking over to Nemi, he thought she looked beautiful in the black dress and Doc Martens. Her dark brunette hair flowed over one shoulder beautifully. He truly loved Nemi. 

“I’m shocked to see the Sun’s political journalist here and a child.” Sebastian began, in a mocking tone. “I always hoped you’d end up fucking your psychologist. I wouldn’t mind saying that I also shipped you.” An angry sigh entered the hall and it came from Nemi. She looked across to her lover.   
“Her name’s Cassie, Seb, you should know that by now.” Nemi couldn’t supress the anger and just let it out. Mostly as a warning not to mess with her. Mycroft looked at Cassidy’s childhood best friend. They looked the same age and had the same accent. But how they were different and on different sides of the law. He thought of the photograph Cassidy had shown him. Nemi was the one who lit up the photograph with her smile. Like she truly wanted to be there. And now look at her, ten years and six deaths later, she no longer held the smile but a cruel and unjust smile. He was glad that Cassidy wasn’t here to see what her friend had become. He looked at Betty and Raign, before he looked up at Sebastian.   
“This is between us, not them. Let them go.” Mycroft exclaimed. He didn’t let his voice quiver once. Sebastian gave a bitter laugh and shook his head. A frown appeared on Mycroft’s face. He didn’t want Raign and Betty to be there. He wanted them to be safe. But before anything else could happen, the front door opened. Nemi turned and pointed her gun at the person’s heart. It was Cassidy and behind her was Lestrade. Nemi’s face lit up at the sight of her best friend. Cassidy didn’t look her in the eye though. She walked straight past her before she stopped and looked at Sebastian. Her eyes held a powerful fire that could never be put out. Mycroft watched her. He had never seen her out on the field. Sebastian looked Cassidy over. She looked prettier in real life. She was wearing a smirk, which he knew, would be hard to wipe off her face.   
“Let Raign and Betty go. If this is about you and Mycroft, then let it be like that.” Sebastian was taken aback by how similar Cassidy and Nemi’s accents were. He looked between Mycroft and her before he waved his gun in the air.   
“Go ahead,” He smirked smugly. “I don’t need them here anyway.” Lestrade rushed over to Raign and Betty and got them out to safety. The atmosphere had become tenser now that the fear had been eliminated. Nemi came and stood next to Sebastian. She looked her best friend over. Cassidy had changed so much. She wore different clothes, wore her hair differently and had thrown the social awkwardness out of the window. A highly sensitive teenager no longer stood in front of her but a strong and independent woman. Everything Nemi had tried becoming and failed. Envy ran through her. She wanted Cassidy’s life. The happiness, her job, her new friends, Nemi wanted everything Cassidy had. Sebastian stood pointing his gun at Cassidy while Nemi’s was on Mycroft. Neither of the captures held fear in their eyes. Only determinedness that they would win this battle whether they died or not. “I’m guessing our diversion was too simple for you Miss Cornwell. How upsetting! It took us months to find somebody who looked similar to me.” Cassidy gave a sarcastic laugh. Diversions never truly worked in the real world. They did on television but not now. Her eyes fell upon Nemi. Nemi gave a small friendly smile.   
“This isn’t working out.” She told Nemi, “With us being on different sides. And because of this, I think it’s best if we break up.” The smile fell from Nemi’s face. She hadn’t thought about what would happen if Cassidy was no longer on her side. Anger began to fill her head and she turned to Mycroft.   
“YOU BRAINWASHED HER, YOU BASTARD!” And she fired her gun twice. It was as if time had slowed down at this point, as Cassidy was watching the gun. The bullets were aimed at Mycroft and Cassidy knew that he would be safe if she would jump in front of him. And that was what happened. Two bullets lodged in Cassidy. One in her chest and the other in her shoulder. She hit the ground and gave a painful groan. Mycroft, who had witnessed Cassidy try to become a martyr, froze. Before he could get down to help her, Nemi screamed in terror. She had shot her best friend. She began to cry and slowly break down. Her hands shook as she held the gun back up and shot Mycroft. She didn’t truly aim anywhere, she just shot him. Mycroft collapsed to the ground in pain. His head began to spin. As he lay there, four more gun shots could be heard. Before he heard voices come around him. Raign was knelt by his side with two paramedics. His chest throbbed as the bullet stayed lodged in it. He tried looking around. He could see a team of paramedics around Cassidy.   
“Cassidy…” He mumbled. Raign placed her hand on his forehead and stroked with her thumb. She was trying so hard not to break down in fear of Mycroft dying. She looked over at Cassidy. The hero of the day. Taking two bullets for her boss. Raign whispered to him soothingly.   
“She has a bullet proof vest on, she’s fine.” Mycroft had tears in his eyes. He was terrified. The pain was beginning to become unbearable. Sobs left his lips. “They’re going to fix you up darling and make you better.” She meant the paramedics. She hoped they could do something. She planted a kiss on his forehead. As she did, Mycroft began to feel drowsy and everything began to darken. A pair of hands grabbed Raign and pulled her away sobbing for someone to help him, as paramedics tried to stop Mycroft from falling asleep. With his eyelids heavy, Mycroft was unaware of what was going on around him as he closed his eyes.  


	17. The Pub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So don’t you knock on that door again  
> Give me space to grieve  
> Don’t you knock on that door again  
> Give me space to leave.  
> ~From ‘Gone Are The Days’ by The Willows.

A young woman walked along a snowy street of London. The snow hadn’t stopped falling for two weeks now and almost everything in London had come to a halt. In her ears were her favourite Panasonic headphones that fit her ears perfectly. The music was a playlist of musicians like _Hozier, Zella Day_ and _George Ezra._ She had been waiting for this day to arrive for a while now. Since the Holmes Manor shootings, her life had been hectic. With paperwork and hospital appointments, she was glad that it was almost over. Looking up at the pub in front of her, she gave a smile. Somebody inside wasn’t even expecting her to appear. But she couldn’t let him down. Pushing the door open, a gush of warm air blanketed her before she stepped inside. In the back on his own in a booth, sat Greg Lestrade. In his hand was pint of beer and on the table in front was a packet of crisps. He had almost finished his pint too. The woman walked over to the bar and order herself a cider and another pint for him.

Lestrade had always hated his birthday. Because he never had anyone to celebrate it with. Here he was in his favourite bar, along, hoping that Cassidy would appear. As he finished off his pint, he looked up to find Cassidy stood in front of him. She was dressed in a replaced black coat, (As hers had bullet holes.) a woollen jumper, a pair of old jeans, and winter boots. Her left arm and shoulder were strapped up in a sling while a brown bag hung from her right shoulder. Lestrade found himself smiling. He stood up and helped her with her drinks. Should she be carrying things with her left arm? He took a seat back down at his table and Cassidy had taken the one opposite. They had hardly seen each other since the shootings as the case had been taken on by MI6. Cassidy was still a major part of the case but Lestrade no longer was.   
“Thank you for the pint.” He greeted. Cassidy gave a mischievous smiled and opened her bag. She pulled out a wrapped present. Lestrade looked at her in disbelief. He hadn’t even told her that today was his birthday.   
“Well shouldn’t the birthday boy have pints bought for him?” She asked. Her accent sounded more like his. Cassidy had personally dampened her accent after the shooting. She wanted to break off all communication with her past. This included her accent. Lestrade smiled at the comment. She pushed the gift towards him. Taking it, he begun to unwrap it. Inside the box, he found a mug saying ‘Number 1 Detective’ and a magnifying glass. Lestrade laughed at his gifts. “Now that I’ve become a semi-freelance psychologist, I thought you might need a mug when we are working together, as I already have mine.” Lestrade remembered her mug. ‘Number 1 psychologist’ that her parents had bought her after graduating university. He placed a hand on top on hers, which sat on the table, and squeezed it as a thank you. He was glad to see that she was back to the person he had worked with before the shooting. The doctors thought that she would become a different person after the trauma of being shot and betrayed by such a close friend. But none of these had affected her one bit. The only thing that did was Mycroft. If she hadn’t been there, he wouldn’t have been shot. It was her fault that he got shot. Guilt clouded her judgements and her mind. She closed her eyes, thinking about it and also trying to stop tears from falling. Lestrade knew that Mycroft getting shot had been the one thing to affect her. She believed it was her fault. And with a week to go, it wasn’t getting any easier. He lifted his pint and took a sip. He gave a small smile, gesturing for her to lift her glass. She did and looked at him.   
“To another birthday and thoughts of lost friends.” Their glasses clunked together as they both thought of how the loss of a friend could affect them. 


End file.
